


this is what dreams are made of

by Olemonade



Series: and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates) [1]
Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Or Is It?, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 13:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18477235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olemonade/pseuds/Olemonade
Summary: breakfast shenanigans = hope can't cook





	this is what dreams are made of

**Author's Note:**

> take this seriously or don't. read at your own peril. have fun.

It was a bright, early Saturday morning and the birds were singing cheerfully outside. The sun was shining warmly on her face and illuminating the room plus the dust particles floating around - today was going to be such a good day, Penelope could feel it in her bones.

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAA” a scream resounded from behind the wall in front of her, vocals rising steadily in a crescendo.

 

She sighed and threw her head back onto the pillow with a thump, nevermind, it was going to be like always.

 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” she screamed back, only hearing a panicked yelp and then curses, some pots clanging together, until-

 

“MY PANCAKE IS STUCK ON THE CEILING.”

 

Penelope threw the covers off of her with a grunt and got out of bed, mournfully staring at it and imagining the quiet and peaceful lie-in she could have had if not for the fact that Hope was her roommate.

 

She picked up some sweatpants lying on the ground and wriggled into them, almost falling over as one of her legs got wound up by some random rope she had lying around, probably left over from one of their previous outings.

 

“COME GET IT FOR ME” another panicked scream and Penelope, paused for a second from putting on a shirt, it still covering her face and yelled out a muffled reply,

 

“GET IT YOURSELF MIKAELSON.”

 

Finally managing to get dressed, she blew on a piece of hair in her face and opened the bedroom door that led out into the kitchen slash living room area only to find Hope standing there, the pan on fire, 4 mixing bowls to the side with flour and dough scattered everywhere around her and on her actual person. Not to mention the weirdly gooey pancake on the ceiling - which, she didn’t even know that was physically possible.

 

“The pan is on fire you do know that right?” Penelope pointed out, only for Hope to shrug in reply,

 

“It’s supposed to be like that, I followed the resippy.”

 

There was a pause, as Penelope took the image in for a second and then burst out incredulously, “You have got to be kidding me. Hope you are not allowed to cook in the kitchen anymore I swear to god.”.

 

She strode over to a fire extinguisher that was nearby exactly for such purposes and blew it all on the pan, leaving Hope to sadly stare at the remnants of her breakfast.

 

“But my food.”

 

“Fuck your chickn strips.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on:  
> tumblr - olemonade  
> twitter - ol3monade


End file.
